Towards the close of the record, and about the end of the fourteenth century, another form, Alicia, begins to make its appearance in the Liber Vitæ, and appears to have become at once a very favourite name. Then, as now, fashion seems to have ruled, and when a new name came in, there seems to have been a run upon it. But by this time Elizabeth had come into use, and as soon as ever that took place, the two names, Eliza and Elizabeth, would begin to get mixed up together as they are now, so that a new female form would, so to speak, be required for Alice. Alicia (or more properly Alisia), is an attempt to supply the euphony which is lacking in Alisa, by supplementing it with a vowel, just as, for the same reason, Amala has been made into Amelia.
About the beginning of the fifteenth century another Christian name for women, Alison, begins to make its appearance in the Liber Vitæ. This name, however, I take to be from an entirely different origin. There is an old Frankish woman's name, Alesinda, Elesind, Alesint, of the eighth century, from which, dropping the final d, it would naturally come, and which is derived by Grimm from Gothic alja, alius (in the probable sense of stranger or foreigner), and sind in the sense of companion or attendant.
JANET: Not from JANE or any female form of JOHN.
It may seem rather a paradox to suggest that Janet has nothing to do with Jane, and yet I think that a pretty good case can be made out. We find Geneta as a woman's name in the Liber Vitæ in the thirteenth century, before Jane or Joan or Johanna were in use. And in the two following centuries we have Gennet, Janeta, Janette, and Janet, of common occurrence as Christian names. (One of these cases is a very curious one. It is that of one Willelmus Richerdson and his wife Christina, who having a family of eighteen children, seem to have been so completely at their wits' end for names to give them, that two of the sons are called Johannes, two Willelmus, after their father, two of the daughters Christine, after their mother, and no fewer than three called Janet. Such reduplication of Christian names does not, however, seem to have been unusual at that time.) Now it seems clear that the above name, Geneta, is the same as our Janet, and equally clear that it is not derived from any female form of John. Foerstemann (Altdeutsches Namenbuch) has an old Frankish woman's name, Genida, tenth century, from a Codex of Lorraine. And I find also the woman's name, Genitia, in the Pol. Rem., one of the old Frankish chronicles before referred to. These old Frankish names might well leave a woman's name behind in France, which in after times might get mixed up with Jean, and from which our name may also have been derived. I may observe that we have also Gennet and Jennett as surnames, and the Germans have also Genett. But these, though from the same stem, must be taken to be from another form of it—viz., from Genad, eighth century, a man's name. From the same stem Foerstemann derives the woman's name, Genoveva, sixth century; whence, through the French, our Genevieve. As to the etymology of gen, the Germans are not agreed, Leo suggesting a borrowed Celtic word, with the meaning of love or affection, while Foerstemann seems to prefer Old High German gan, magic or fascination.
EMMA: Its Place in the Teutonic System.
The ordinary derivation of Emma from a Teutonic word signifying grandmother, or nurse, becomes impossible in face of the fact that among the Old Franks, from whom, through the Normans, we received it, the man's name Emmo was quite as common as the woman's, Emma. But in point of fact the stem, of which the older form seems to have been im, was one common to the whole Teutonic system, including the Low Germans settled in England. And the Immingas, descendants or followers of Imma, are ranged by Kemble among the early settlers. But among the Anglo-Saxons, with whom the ending of men's names (other than compounds) was generally in a, Imma would obviously not be suitable for names of women; and in point of fact it always appears in England, at that time, as a man's name. And probably, for this reason, the Frankish princess Emma, on becoming the wife of Cnut of England, considered it necessary to assume a Saxon name in addition to her own, and so become known as Ælfgifu Imma. But a few centuries later, when the simple old Saxon names in a had very much died out, Emma coming in as something quite new, and with the stamp of Norman prestige, became at once, as appears from the Liber Vitæ, a name in favour. As to the etymology, which is considered by the Germans to be obscure, I have elsewhere ventured to suggest Old Northern ymia, stridere; whence the name of the giant Ymir, in Northern mythology. The sense is that of a harsh and loud voice, which suggests huge stature. So, from Gaelic fuaim, noise, strepitus, comes fuaimhair, a giant, of which we may possibly have a lingering tradition in the nursery—"Fee, Fa, Fum" representing the giant's dreaded war-cry. And from what follows, "I smell the blood of an Englishman," one might almost think of the nurse as a Saxon, and the ogre as one of the earlier Celtic race, who might in those days be dangerous neighbours.
I give below the stem, with its branches, so far as it forms names of women. It also enters into some compounds, one of which, Americo, bequeathed by the Franks or Lombards to Italy, has the honour of giving the name to America.
Stem im or em.
Names of men.—O.G. Immo, Himmo, Emmo (among others, three bishops in the seventh and ninth centuries). A.S. Imma, found in Imman beorh, "Imma's barrow, or grave." Imma, Hemma, Hemmi, about the tenth century in the Liber Vitæ. Eama, Anglo-Saxon moneyer.
Names of women.—O.G. Imma, Emma (among others Emma, daughter of Charlemagne).